Too Long a Mermaid
by Faceslikemine16
Summary: Welcome to the 69th annual Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour... "Who's the person you love most?" He asked his eyes a beautiful sea green blaze into hers. "Annie," She whispers "my cousin Annie." "Dead," His finger slices across his throat "Dead if you don't do what they say, do you understand now?" Rewrite of If It Tastes Like Fire
1. Chapter 1

**hiya this is the rewrite of "If it tastes like fire." probably a little Au compared to the orginal. Annie x Finnick eventually/probably/ you'll have to see. Reviews greatly appreciated. xxx**

**Chapter One**

She was almost sixteen when they reaped her.

"Ladies first?" The silly bitch with spiky green hair trilled. Diana had watched reapings in other districts they all did that and they all laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world. District four was a career district but it was rare for a girl to volunteer and no-one said a word when they read out her name. Behind her she could hear her cousin Annie sobbing, her fingers brushed past her skin. Not fast enough to grab onto her arm. As Diana walked up to the stadium, she could hear her saying. "Oh God, Oh God,"

There is no God, she wanted to laugh. There is the capitol.

Her father was a sailor with cautious ambition to be a Capitan in a few years time. The only daughter her elder brothers had grown up and married not foolish enough to volunteer. She had inherited the good looks of district four from her mother. Waist-length dark hair, pearly skin and enormous sea-blue eyes. He had hoped, her father that she might have married a rich man lived a better life pretending that every year for a few seconds she did not gamble with her children's lives. Apart from that they had always toed the line of invisibility. Until today.

Diana glared unashamedly when the seventeen-year-old hulk volunteered, shook her hand and peered curiously down her top. But she said nothing. "Only let Annie in." She ordered the guard with more steely authority than she thought she was capable of. She took a seat and drew her knees up under her chin. Annie understood, she thought, she's stood by me like a sister each year. The thought of seeing her father, the aunt who looked and smelt so much like her own mother left a foul taste in her mouth.

"I don't want you to die." Annie said. They were sitting together backs leaning against the wall.

"Maybe I won't." She replied, there was a pause as they both reconciled themselves she was only saying that for Annie's benefit.

"Tell my father I'm sorry please." She said eventually And make sure Owain she doesn't give his child a awful name."

"Like what?"

"Like Plutarch!"

They both began to laugh.

"I'll do better." Annie promised "If it's a girl I'll make them call it Diana."

"I think they'll name it after my mother first." Diana said softly, Annie squeezed her hand.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

That wasn't so hard she thought as they led her away. However, by the time she had reached the train her body disagreeing. Accept it she ordered her stiff shivery muscles, cold gooseflesh skin and knotted stomach, you are going to die and you might as well get over it or she thought glancing up at Secil overgrown physically, underdeveloped mentally like most careers and imagining briefly him snapping her neck, or get over with. He grasped Finnick's the ridiculously handsome 65th Hunger Games victor hand ignoring Mags the other electric blue eyed mentor. When it was her turn to be greeted. She made a point of smiling directly at Mags and letting her eyes slide distractedly off Finnick's face as if he wasn't easily the most interesting thing in the room.

I blame them, Diana thought glancing discreetly at Finnick's rippling muscles as he reached up to run his fingers through his tawny hair. They are every bit as responsible for turning this into a circus as the Capitol. Perhaps if she was going to die, she could keep a little integrity.

"So tell me about yourselves." He drawled as they sat down to eat. Diana picked at her food but could not help snorting slightly as Secil spoke of bringing blood and honour to his district. Her eyes flicked up and met Finnick's amused smile.

"What about you sweetheart?" He grabbed her plate and piled it high.

"Hobbies, Interests…?" Seeing the look on Diana's face he trailed of, smiling brightly.

"You done mate, get some rest then?" Secil scraped back the chair and headed off to the sleeping-quarters. Mags silently followed.

"Diana you need to eat." He said. "Going in half-starved doesn't work in your favour, I promise you that."

"Don't try." She said "Don't even try."

"It's my job." He said bluntly. "You can pretend like it's not happening or you can face up to it."

"Fun job." Diana said playing with her fork. "What makes you think I want to win? I don't want to do that, if you want to help me, you'll let me kill myself nice and quickly. Before I get my eyes plucked out by birds, or my brains smashed out."

"Or better idea." He smiled winningly. "I teach you how."

She stabbed at a potato. "I think I would like that."

* * *

At the Capitol they stripped Diana of her clothes and hair. She cannot help hating them her prep-team. As they soothe and adore, titter and giggle, feeling by the end even more a doll a object than before. She kept a mantra running through her head. _You are a tribune, not a person._ It would be easier she thought when the time came, if she had accepted the real Diana had been absent for awhile.

Still she is more beautiful than she has ever been before in her life. They have gilded her lids silver, gummed lacy huge black lacy lashes making her eyes even more large and dramatic. Painted her lips a silvery-watery blue. They had braided her hair with gold net and pearls. She goes half naked, the curtain of hair covering her breasts, mother of pearl silk binding her legs. A mermaid how predictable… then she remembers her promise to Finnick to kill them with kindness and bites down the curl in her lip. Leaning against her chariot in the cold depot, Diana observes it is a great year for nudity. But not really a great year for nude people. The coal miners from district twelve are sallow and hungry looking even the paint. The two from district seven a plump boy with glasses and a buck-toothed girl as tall as a tree and as scrawny as a branch are naked as well leaves gathered in certain choice areas like a thousand year old painting she had studied at school.

When the chariots go, the crowd is too large, too loud. She looks up at the night, at the stars. The wind rushes through her hair, flinging it back and exposing her chest. A wave of approval ripples in the crowd and she makes no attempt to cover them. Her fingers curled around the silver bar she leans forward and expertly caught a rose between her teeth. The petals felt like silk against her cheek. When the anthem stopped, Finnick swung her off the chariot like she was a feather. She had spat the rose onto the ground.

"I can't walk in this thing." She called after him, with a harsh laugh shuffling like a penguin. He took two steps backwards and tossed her easily over his shoulder.

"Is Secil getting the same treatment?"

"Mags is taking care of him." He set her on her feet in the lift leaned his back against the glass doors. Finger the emerald clasp holding her 'tail' at her narrow hips.

"I could unwrap you like a present."

She takes a sharp intake of breath, her heart hammered. Reality seemed to crash inside her head. She slapped his hand away. "I'm not sleeping with you for favours in the arena, Finnick." She exploded.

He carried on smiling. A red-faze descended suddenly, unexpectedly and she went for him, nails and teeth.

They ended her toppling over and him holding her in a head-lock. "Not bad," He said releasing her. "Plenty to work on." Though and he strolled out the lift hands in his pockets. Leaving her frustrated and scarlet-faced, wobbling in her silly outfit.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N thank-you for the follows favorites ect. keep them and any reviews coming! xx  
**

**Chapter Two**

Diana can't remember their names, but their faces are as vivid as a nightmare. By the morning the brief flare for fight yesterday had dissipated over a night of

restless sleep and the original plan of suicide as quickly and painlessly as possible had kicked back in. Upon entering the training centre she slid down a wall and sat watching the other tribunes' with Mags and Finnick for fifteen minutes. Despite this apparent disadvantage aka: one of their tribunes refusing to train, they seemed pleased about something. Finnick's strength and beauty had won him the games four years ago. Diana was lucky, the classic suspects for beauty and popularity in district one and two had come up duff. The boy from district one was a Secil shaped thug with blonde hair, the girl a smaller (but not much) version of him. The district two's were almost identical with too many shiny white teeth crowding their mouths large mouths. There had been a famine the winter before the games and the tributes from nine, ten, eleven and twelve were scrawny, pasty and possessed too little teeth, compared to the despair and fear she felt, they must be in agony. She swore aloud, when she clapped eyes on the two from district five, they were both under fourteen and looked it. With the exception of a gorgeous ebony skinned girl, with fantastic curly old and brown hair. Diana had the undeniable privilege of being the most attractive one there. As he passed her, following Secil to a rack of lethal looking Bludgeons-Axe things. Finnick reached out and chucked her chin.

"Pretty girl's sell." He said.

Good advice.

* * *

Secil, hogged Finnick for the first two hours. Diana decided it would probably do her scheme little harm to identify a few plants. In case she changed her mind or whatever. And when Mags started showing her how to make fish-hooks, she let her. She had always wondered afterwards how exactly Mags won her games presuming, she hadn't actually fished people…

Knots were easy, years of mooring boats and weaving nets for her father and elder-brothers had gifted her fingers a memory of her own. When Finnick came back punching Secil in a friendly way on the shoulder. He picked up her fish hook and tapped it experimentally against the table,

"Nice job Dana."

"Don't call me that." She said testily, through the wire she was holding between her lips.

"I've been thinking, Diana's a bit of a mouthful. Dina?"

"Well it's not really my fault you have a small, _Dina? _God… Dana's fine."

She tried not to remember that Annie and her mother were the only ones who had ever called her that.

"Avoiding one on one contact, is unfortunately something I cannot teach you." He sat down opposite her.

Diana looked down at her hooks pointedly. "In those situation defence is your best bet, as we've seen already," he pointed to a pink scratch mark on his cheek and she smiled despite herself.

"Your animal instincts are rather good."

"Speak for yourself," She muttered under her breath.

He grinned at her. "Of course I do."

A capitol assistant practised with her, until she bested him a few times. Then Finnick took over. The satisfaction she had got from tossing a fully grown man onto his back was significantly stumped after her first attempt lying in the dust at his feet. After the first ten or so times, she refused to get up, even when he extended his hand to her.

"Come on, sweetheart."

"Fuck off." She groaned, putting her hands over her eyes.

She heard him sigh "Go and take a break. We'll try again in five minutes."

"I don't know why you bother." She called after him, as he walked away. Secil another block head if a marginally less pretty one would be a far better bet. Maybe he's vainer than I thought she wondered sitting up and rubbing at her sore arms.

* * *

After the session was over Diana got into the shower and stayed there under the warm gorgeous smelling rose foam for an hour. In the end it was her Avox a small blonde-haired, doe-eyed girl made her get out and dress. Not bothering to dry her hair and simply pulling a faded cotton dress over her head, she went out to eat. They looked worried: Finnick and Mags as she sat down. Secil in comparison was practically beaming. They've been talking too much about the mermaid girl on the news. If she was losing her grip, she would be easier prey. Thinking that made her ecstatically mad. Rather die than let him kill me she thought. Her heart started to pump furiously again.

The conversation as on the train was lead by Secil, Diana ate passive-aggressively scratching her knife and fork violently across her plate. He was disappointed apparently at the lack of attention his sacrifice was getting, it was not uncommon for the career districts to have four mentors. Finnick turned up every year to be slathered in sickly adoration, but this year the other killing machines were absent. Mags as much as Diana liked her was not really in Secil's eyes a good substitute Perhaps there had been a tip-off, Diana thought like it hardly mattered, perhaps district four weren't going to do particularly well this year. Bored, she rocked back in her chair picked up the silver knife and began to flick it around her wrist over and over again.

"Nice knife work." Finnick's voice was such a surprise that she dropped it with a clatter to the floor and had to reach down one hand scrambling to find it. Mortifyingly she felt herself turning scarlet and put her free hand on her hot cheek in a attempt cover it. Secil was narrowing his eyes at her, or rather at her cleavage. "I would have thought." She said, her voice seemed a lot higher than usual and cracked. "You had seen enough of them, last night." Staring right back at him she yanked up her top and left the room.

* * *

"Tip number one." Finnick sent the dagger in a cartwheel through the air, caught it and pressed the black plastic handle into Diana's hand.

"Do not drop the knife."

Diana shook her head. "Genius,"

"I know… Tip number two." He began to masterfully angle her body to face the bulls eye painted on a human torso. "Put your foot here- tip number two: there are two types of throws spin and no spin, I would recommend, spin. It is far harder, to be accurate without and anyway a spear would be a far better weapon for that."

" Or a trident." She said

" Or a trident. So, blade horizontal to the target if your this far away you'll need about two spins to hit the target so hold it here. And for tip number three throw the knife fucking hard."

She swung back her arm and let it go.

"Shit." The blade had stuck in the ring circling the target's heart.

Finnick strolled over and yanked the blade out, he looked more than a little impressed. She had to admit she liked it.

"One of the disadvantages of knife throwing is that once it's gone you have to get it out again. Still we can practise knife-fighting later on…." He smiled irresistibly. "Well done Dana, good hand eye co-ordination."

"It's like throwing pebbles," She said. He raised a eyebrow, for a moment his eyes flickered up to the box where the game maker's sat watching.

"I suppose it is, keep at it though." He said hurriedly. "I need to help Secil."

He left with a abruptness which Diana thought was unusual for him. She looked up at the game makers. A cluster of men young and coldly handsome, old and grotesquely fat were looking at her like she was a slab of meat. Worse they did not look embarrassed to be caught, carried on staring. Hungrily. She stepped back and let the silver fly through the air. This time it caught its target: the very heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N thank you for all fav, follows ect. all feedback greatly appreciated, hope you enjoy xx **

**Chapter Three**

"They want you on side." Mags said, the next day. Diana looked up from the screen of plants she was identifying and glanced at the career tributes Mags was gesturing at.

She let out a heavy sigh "I suppose you should tell them yes." She said.

Mags raised a elegant white eyebrow. "You suppose?"

"What?" Diana said defensively "I'd be mad to say no, even if they do slit my throat while I'm asleep."

"Yes you would be." Mags said carefully.

A half laugh caught in her throat "What do you think I am mad?"

"I think you need to think how much you want to win."

"What if I don't?"

Mags sighed. "It is completely up to you, but I'd be sorry to think I had sent such a lovely girl to unassailable doom."

" At least I'm prepared." She burst out, several people including Finnick turned and looked at her. She lowered her head "I don't want to kill people." Diana whispered.

"I know you don't."

"I don't understand how some-one like you could be so defeatist." Secil was in the shower, she and Finnick sat drinking on the sofa they were waiting for the scores to come through.

* * *

"Your beautiful, fast, agile, strong, hell you held me down today with your thighs." Diana rolled her eyes. Briefly she thought back to her private training session. She had walked in her head as high as any Queen's. She had hit the bulls eye five times so fast it felt like she was juggling with the knives and then stalked off without saying another word." ("Good" Finnick said when she told him. "They'll think you're feisty.")

" Not all of us have such big heads," She said.

"Seriously Dana."

"I'm not going to have a heart to heart with you alright? I just want you to make sure my father puts my headstone next to my mother's, that is literally all I care about." Her voice had trembled with the force of the suppressed emotion behind it but it felt good to finally spit it out. She reached for the bottle of red-wine on the table to refill her glass but he grabbed the bottle from her and put it back on the table. He then caught her hand and kissed it. She froze, feeling the small hairs on her arms stand on end.

"Not yet," He said.

As Secil re-entered shaking his wet hair out like a dog. Finnick let go of her hand and trailed his arm against the back of the sofa near her shoulder. She folded her arms and slumped her eyes fixated on a spot above the television screen as Secil sat down next to her. In the corner of her eye a one eight and a ten flashed up for district one.

"It's funny." She said in a voice that suggested very much otherwise. "The smaller number your district the larger your score it's a sort of inverse ratio."

No one said a word, but she felt Secil's glare on her neck.

A four and a five came for the two from District three, beside her she Secil leaned forward the cushions creaking under his weight. His name comes up with a… seven.

"It's not the end of the world." Finnick said very quickly, too quickly really for any kind of comfort, "Seven eight it's how you do in the arena that matters." As if that wasn't obvious.

Diana's name with a nine was met with silence. Until Secil exploded. " Her! Her! This is Bullshit,"

"Calm down." Finnick said soothingly reaching across to touch Secil's elbow.

"Well maybe if _you_ hadn't spent your time flirting with that… that fucking bitch."

Diana got up as well, faux yawning. " Well… I'm going to just go…" But he grabbed hold hard of her long braid causing her to let out a gasp of surprise and pain but then as quick as a flash she elbowed him hard in the balls and his voice soured up a octave.

"Touch me again and your dead." She spat in his face. Bitter words. Brave words. Words Diana had absolutely no way of knowing if she actually meant.

* * *

Diana rather liked Caesar Flickerman for the three minutes she sat with him reclining in the glossy black interview chair. It was only exiting through the breezy wings that she began to hate him. He had been host, she realised, for the past twelve years and he had sent two-hundred and seventy-three children to their deaths. With the same cheap laughs and gleaming smiles, to wave the off with. By the time her games were over it would total two-hundred and ninety-six. He might be amusing and charming but there was blood on his hands and he was guilty she thought as guilty as President Snow.

"Flirt," Finnick had ordered her earlier."Be nice- if you can, smile but be brusque, sarcastic you're good at that, they like someone with a bit of" He clicked his fingers a couple of times in front of his face searching for the word. "Spunk."

"To thine self be true." She retorted, with a quote from a book that had belonged to her mother. It was rumoured that some time ago her mother's family had been rather rich. Rumoured her great-grandmother had been born in the capitol in a time before the hunger-games. Hardly mattered now Diana thought, the money was long gone and her mother's precious and forbidden books had gone up in the yellow flames of her funeral pyre the day she died.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." Did he ever stop smiling?

But, she did not want to flirt, not in the way that came so easily to him the Capitol's golden boy. The place had repulsed her since she first put a foot on it. She did not want to be their friend, their darling.

Mags had told her to try her best to make the most of the lime light. "You need the sponsors dear." It was nice to hear it without a sugar coat.

* * *

Still like it or not, it was a alien beauty who looked back at her in the mirror. Some-one she barely recognized, a capital someone. The dress she wore was like wearing tangled sea-weed. Long and black with different sorts of knots of lace and silk all the way down. It clung to her figure the suffocating corset worn underneath annunciating curves she did not know she had. The black striking against her pale skin. She wore a silver net as cape trickling down one shoulder to complement it her prep team had produced a sort of silvery paint and slicked her hair tight around the skull with it, leaving a wave of curls hanging down her bare back. Painted her lips a dark purple red. The shoes were silver as well staggeringly high, she was as taller in them than six foot Finnick.

Caesar smiled even more than Finnick that night. The bright-white teeth, the bright green hair and lids shaded a pastel green tone a bit too much like bruising for her personal taste all were more that slightly repulsive. In his usual winning way he kissed her hand and complimented her on her chariot outfit.

"A mermaid, how original," She sighed rolling her eyes skywards then glancing at the audience to _generously_ share the joke.

"But you looked very beautiful," He said.

Murmurs of agreement from the crows a couple of wolf-whistles.

She smiled the cute little pout she had practised with… well copied off Finnick.

"Why thank-you,"

"And looking extraordinarily beautiful tonight,"

She smoothed out her dress over her knees ran her fingers over the smooth and rough silk "You see tonight I'm a sea creature, it's _very "_She drawled nibbling at her painted bottom lip very deliberately. "Different."

The audience tittered.

So did Caesar lolling back in his chair clapping his hands, "So, so Diana how do you feel about your nine? Very impressive puts you in the top three."

"Well, I'm happy of course. And I suppose as long as I don't end up with one of those horrible spike bludger things in my neck like they had last year I can imagine I'll stay happy."

They laughed again as if she wasn't completely serious.

"Well we certainly can't risk your pretty little neck. Best of luck! Miss Cresta from district four!"

He held Diana's hand out to the crowd, her arm straight up in the air, she smiled and she smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Fiana fantastic (aw bless!) and others thank you so much for the reviews, this chapter was quite a toughie to write, didn't really want to send her off to the arena, but on the third rewrite... I kinda had to. Anyway I hope you all like this tell me what you think xx**

**Chapter Four**

"You didn't stay for the interviews," Diana sat up slowly in bed, Finnick a dark figure against the yellow light of the corridor, is leaning against the doorframe.

"I didn't have much desire, to acquaint myself with my murderers and victims." She said coldly lying back down and staring up at the crack on the ceiling which absorbed her attention for the last hour or so.

"Dana…" She can almost feel him roll his eyes. "You should of stayed, looks like you're the favourite."

"Whoopee-fucking-do." She said.

"Jesus Christ Diana! Do you want to survive at all?"

Her eyes suddenly pricked with tears. She had not wanted that nine, the hope or the attention. Especially, especially from fucking Finnick Odair. Oh a week ago she might have been as starry eyed as everyone else, but it wasn't serious. She thought briefly of every 'darling' and every 'sweetheart', every single god damn caress. Should she be grateful? That for the last week of her short and unremarkable life she had felt wanted and desired by Finnick Odair no less. Or should she feel used? A tool for Finnick's attention as much as the capitol's. Should she just accept the fact that sooner or later a prettier nicer girl would be selected for district four and by that time he would have long forgotten her. The fact that she is dwelling on this now, when she is as good as dying… shallow bitch.

"Secil's right you know, you shouldn't have spent all that time with me." Diana cut across him.

Finnick groaned, striding away from the doorway into the room.

"What!" She stood up as well. "Face it Finnick look at me, look!" She gestured her slender form violently. "I might be fast ish, I might be able to throw and fight. But the other careers are fucking mountains. Yeah I might be pretty but guess what I'm going to be pretty right until I go into the ground."

She sat back down on the bed and put her head into her hands. "Be honest with me Finnick." She said. "Did you pay me all that attention because… because you thought I could win? Or because I'm just."

He shakes his head. "Dana no," He kneels down in front of her, peels her hands away from her face and squeezed both her hands she tried not to look into his oceanic eyes "I really do care, it's just well the only thing you can do is win, darling."

Win, win. She can't even dare hope. Earlier in the bath, scrubbing hard at the silver shit in her hair. She had thought about drowning herself and realised devastatingly she did not have the courage, all opportunities had slipped through her fingers the last thing she had of worth. The only thing she ever had of worth. Her life would be lapped up by her audience. Cowardice tomorrow might save her life, at least it hinted a touch at self-preservation. Something she seemed to be severely lacking in. Can she even kill? The aspect of the games she has concentrated most on is her extensive ability to die. Can she kill? Does she even want to?

"Is it so hard to believe Dana that I understand how you feel, I was fourteen…" Finnick carried on.

"And as cocky as hell." She said but she was smiling.

"Well maybe, sweetheart, but it's the games. All you can do is win, won't you at least promise me you'll try?"

She inclined her head slowly. A silence followed , Finnick tried to catch her direct gaze.

At last he said. "I'll make sure, if it doesn't go your way… They put you by your mother."

"Thank you." She breathes.

He smiles at her and stands back up. She follows him with her eyes as he strolled over to her bedside cupboard and picks up the plastic grey remote. Finnick pointed it at the large window and flicked through flashes of colour until waves of crystal blue and green lick at the glass.

"There," he says. There was a high herringbone sky the evening they buried her mother, sea birds. A jade winged albatross flew through the sky.

"Yes." She walks forward pressing her forehead against the glass.

When she turns back to Finnick, holds out a little yellow bottle. He shakes it at her.

* * *

"Sleeping pills," He leans over and kisses her gently but firmly on the forehead. They'll help." He promises. "Goodnight."

Diana stuffs them into her mouth, they taste like bitter paper but when he leaves she spits them both out into the sink. She covers herself in a heavy pile of blankets, flicks off the false horizon rolls away from the dark empty screen and despite herself falls into a chilly uncomfortable sleep. It is a old dream. She and her mother are sitting together on the kitchen table. When she suddenly gets up and begins to walk. She doesn't answer when Diana calls, her mouth bobs like a dumb gold-fish when she attempts to scream for her mother. And even though she runs and runs and her mother only seems to drifts gently she will never catch her and never give up trying. Somewhere in the uncomfortable period between sleep and consciousness, a old memory resurfaces. She is twelve it is reaping day her first, her mother the mother who wanted a daughter more than anything else grips her hand tightly, presses her lips to the top of her forehead as they walk away safe (this time) from the town centre. "You know," She hears her mother saying. "My sister and I made a pact that if either of us were reaped we'd volunteer for the other. I don't know why but it made it more bearable somehow."

When she wakes up it is still dark, she fumbles around her neck and takes off her mother's wedding ring a slender intricate band of silver. A wave holding a seed pearl on a bit of string around her neck. You are allowed to take in one thing provided it is not a weapon into the arena. She was going to wear it But she cannot afford sentiment anymore and she doesn't want any part of her mother present… She is thankful that at least her mother has not lived to see her die.

As for Finnick, Diana had made up her mind. If he's been playing her the fool for his own amusement, then she is going to make him regret it. If not, if for some unbelievable reason he's genuine. Well then she is going to create something worth coming back for. She gets out of bed and pulls off the baggy shirt she slept in, runs her fingers through her hair and pads across the cool living room into his bedroom. Finnick is still asleep, she climbs onto the bed with him on her hands and knees. Throws back her hair, like she's seen girls do in capitol shows she kisses him very softly on the mouth and his eyes flicker open.

"Dana?"

"You going to wish me luck?" She murmurs, pressing her lips to his neck.

He sits up gently pushing her away. "This isn't the time." He said.

"It's the end of me." She said, "What could be a better time?"

"Dana, you don't what you're doing, please just go back to bed."

She stands up and is about to stalk away when he says "in for a penny," and grabs her arm and pulls her back onto the bed with him.

He leans over and kisses her and kisses her until she's toppled flat on her back arms wrapped around his neck.

"Good luck then." He rolls off her wrapping his sheet around his hips.

"Where you off to?" She says sitting up herself.

"I'm getting some sponsors for your sorry ass, I suppose you're really going to have to win now."

* * *

At seven she was escorted by two silent peace-keepers down to her stylist. The look on her face when her normally chatty stylist opened his mouth was enough to freeze any attempt at conversation. She was dressed in the tributes black and grey unitard, with high protective leather boots. No jacket. Mags had warned her earlier to be observant with the clues in the outfitting. The material feels like cotton, breathable. Hot then. Her heart sank a little, cotton is not exactly water-proof. They painfully braid her mermaid's hair in zigzags across her scalp. He kissed her Finnick Odair kissed her, the memory of it pulses through her blood, far more absorbing even than the prospect of imminent death.

Secil glared at her when they climbed up the stairs into the helicopter, but it didn't matter they were allies now. Her and the other careers, they were allies and Finnick Odair had kissed her. Well, Diana supposed she's really gonna have to win now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

They rose dizzily into a rugged orange red desert. The land mines exploded and limbs belonging to the red-haired district five boy hit the dust. Diana forced herself to ignore it. Not to turn wild eyed as some of the tributes were doing. Not to listen to the laughter coming from the district one stand. The timer counted down as she steeled herself.

Three, two, one.

She leapt from her podium and landed on her feet. She was the first to the cornucopia the fastest after all. She grabbed a dagger with a razor sharp edge from the rack and twisted just in time to kick the boy from district eleven- poised to attack, to the ground. It surprised her, no horrified her how easily she could hurt him. But she slashed deeply at his throat and bright blood splattered over her. His counterpart the pretty girl stared at her and then ran off into the desert. Calmly she bent to the ground and wiped the blade in the dirt as around her the blood bath continued. Ten cannons hammered through the sky, the others fleeing leaving behind the careers and Diana. No, she thought she could not really make that distinction anymore. She was murderer. The helicopter came fluttering through the sky and plucked the corpses or well what was left of them from the ground. She could not help envying them, death was more peaceful than this, the fear. Looking around the careers, her allies hacking off bits of their uniforms because of the unbearable heat. Trying to smile at their blood thirsty humour. _"Squealed like a fucking pig… a fucking pig."_ The idea that she might kill herself nagged again. On inspection, after the squabbling over the heavy weaponry finished, they emptied the rucksacks. Diana claimed a small pack containing a roll of throwing knives, matches, rope and curiously a watch with a leather strap. Her throat chaffed there was no water in the packs.

* * *

A silver parachute flew from the sky not ten minutes later as she strapped her watch onto her wrist. The big blonde girl from district one her name was Jacinda snatched it from the air in her large fist. "District Four." She said tossing it dismissively at Diana. Secil raised his eyebrow and smirked nastily at his reflection in the curved blade he was wielding. She opened the box. It contained a large black canteen a slip of paper curled round it. She shook it and it sloshed.

_Drink up Mermaid, F._

Finnick's note read. She crumpled it in her fist before Secil or the others for that matter could see it and gulped at the bottle before placing it in the dirt so the others could have a go.

"We need to find a proper source of water." Diana said quietly once it was gone, she forced herself to meet their glares. They do not like her already the jibes on how the blood had spoiled her pretty face. But she is bringing in sponsors, she thinks sticking out her chin. They don't have to like her, they just have to not kill each other.

She kept to the side of the pack, the sun was rising made it difficult to see. Two miles of barren dirt and no water. It was nothing really to her, but some of the larger muscle monsters were draining. In a hundred meter sprint they might be lethal, but not really built for the long haul. Waiting for Secil and the boy from One to catch up, absent-mindedly she looked at her watch: high tide.

* * *

Then the fire began. It shot through the dust and sullen grey sky in a large flaming yellow ball She dived threw herself down, hard on her face. It passed burning over the back of her neck. Secil lagging behind screamed a raw hard sound and a canon blasted. The strength of the careers ties and alliance was laid bare for the capitol to see as they manically scattered. Secil, Diana caught a glance of Secil's corpse a ash black lumpy thing. It lasted an hour, waves after waves of fire ball no-where to run, no-where to hide. Fear, electrifying fear. As it subsided the canon boomed again and Diana wretched onto the earth as another burnt body floated in her mind's eye.

"Half dead already." She said as they regrouped back at the cornucopia.

"Good." The girl from district two said her name was Jacinda. They glanced at her nastily to see if she was mourning Secil at all. She wasn't. She slumped down in the short grey shadow of the cornucopia and stroked the strap of her watch with her thumbnail. Can she dare hope? Secil is dead the only other person who could have spotted the pattern. They learnt the time-table aged five off by heart at school. If she is right… She is the only one who knows when the next explosion of heat and fire is coming. The next high tide 2.05 am.

There was some dry tough bread in a couple of the rucksacks another parachute arrives from the sky for Jacinda and they share it around again. Diana could not help but wonder if the capitol was getting rather bored. The tributes were all dying too quickly, the arena even with the flames was not especially interesting and god knows her company was not the brightest.

It grew dark, beautifully slates of smoky grey and ebony toasted gold by the sun at nine. Though the matches she found seemed only minutes ago hardly necessary it turned cold as well and with some scruffy ferns and things they lit a fire. The capitol symbol shone in the sky and the anthem began, from the sky the fallen looked down. Diana stared at her hands instead of Secil and the boy she killed.

At ten they started settling down around the dying fire. They curled around their weapons like favourite toys.

"I'll take first watch." she offered.

For some reason this kind suggestion was met with dark glances, but they shrugged it off, rolled over and slept. Diana was by far the smallest one there, no way in hell she could she kill them all. The only thing she could possibly do was run off and then what did it matter? One less ally is one less person to stick a knife in your back at close quarters.

Could it be right? Could she be right? If she wasn't then she might as well run off. She was neither going to start or survive a fight between her and the careers they were far, far too big. She had sponsors she would be fine- better even, away from this uneasy alliance. Far better to let them hunt down the others like wolves and then turn thirstily on each other. If she had sponsors then she has a chance.

The minutes ticked by. She refused to let herself think anymore, though the waiting was horrible, thinking was dangerous bad for the nerves they would say at home. Midnight. Finally how long can this take? One o clock, she was supposed to wake the district one boy… Two o clock, her hand tighten on the belt where she has stuck her knives the ones to throw and a dagger wrapped around her right hand. One minute past. Quietly she put on her rucksack and took three silent steps away from them.

Two minutes past. She began to creep backwards up the little slope behind the cornucopia. On higher ground, Diana froze as reptilian like Jacinda slid open her lids, her eyes a silver glare in the dark. They stared at each other for just a moment and then she hurled her axe. Diana ducked easily and it stuck hard into the sand. But the large grunt she gave roused the others and they scrambled up dust, dark grey in the night rising thickly around them. She ran, and the fire came with a rattling roar and as she turned back engulfed them. She ran and she ran but a burning tongue licked at her shoulder. The canon boomed one, two, three, four. With a scream she tripped over something in the dark and rolled head over heels down a short steep dune and into a hollow dip. She should not stay here, if the fire-balls came it's a death trap. But her shoulder is only bearable because she is biting down on her leather watch strap like women do in child-birth. She has no choice but to stay and watch the world burn.


End file.
